


Not a Real Green Dress

by kosame



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternative Relationship Structures, Asexuality, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kosame/pseuds/kosame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America doesn't mean to run off Canada's significant others, honest, but somehow he succeeds anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Real Green Dress

"You are so _selfish_. You can't handle not being the centre of attention for just _one dinner_?" Canada grabbed the casserole dish and slammed it into the sink, turning on the tap to run full blast.

America didn't answer, grabbing the mashed potatoes and shoveling them into his mouth directly from the bowl.

"You do this _every damn time_ ," Canada continued as he took out his aggression scrubbing. "Just _once_ I don't want to have to hear 'you're really nice, but your brother...' Is it fun for you or something, sabotaging a pathetic loser's relationships?"

It was getting hard to chew, the mashed potatoes like glue in his mouth. They didn't taste like anything, but America kept eating anyway.

"Because I have news for you: I'm not half as pathetic as someone who is pathologically incapable of behaving like a human being for _three measly hours_." Canada seemed to have ranted himself out for the moment, looking back over his shoulder to the kitchen table. "Well? You can't shut up in front of company and now you have nothing to say for yourself?"

He thought he should apologize, but he didn't want to lie. He didn't want to tell the truth, either.

Putting the casserole dish aside to dry, Canada sighed and went back over to the table. "This can't keep happening." He sat down and tried to peer at America's face, still buried in the mostly-empty potato bowl. "Do you want to tell me what the problem is?"

America shook his head.

"It wasn't really a question." The hard edge came back into Canada's voice.

"I always _try_ to be happy for you," America said petulantly. He knew he was the one behaving poorly, but just knowing it wasn't changing his feelings.

"You're jealous?" Canada said, and the words were harsh. "And here I never thought I'd see the day when you _admitted_ someone was better than you at something--"

"No." America said. "Although I guess you are better than me as some things like living in igloos and being polite to dinner guests you hate." The joke didn't deflect attention from the truth of the matter as he had intended, unfortunately. He was afraid to look up and see Canada's face, especially since he figured he was about to be thrown out.

"If this is some geopolitical spheres of influence bullshit--"

"It's not!" America made the mistake of looking up then, and he wondered if fear was written as clearly in his eyes as it was in Canada's. He was pretty sure from the horrified look he was getting that he was probably going lose this relationship either way, and he'd always been an all-in, guns-blazing kind of dude, so he gave his mouth carte blanche to at least make the explosion spectacular. "I know you're not happy with just me, or maybe you're not happy with me, so I try not to get in your way, you know? I just try to put it out of my mind. But it's kinda hard to do that when they're sitting _right in front of me_. And you're right, I am totally _fucking_ selfish, but this," he gestured between them with one hand, "is kind of _it_ for me, so it's kind of hard to just let it go." He realized abruptly his voice had gotten louder somewhere along the line and it was probably important he stop yelling if Canada wasn't going to think he was completely unhinged. "You know what. You don't need to listen to this. I can whine just as easily to a pint of ice cream, and since you don't have pints here, I'll just--"

Canada got up and went to the freezer, slamming down half a liter of If I Had A Million Flavours in front of America. "Complain, and I swear I'll throw you back to Vermont myself."

Not stupid enough to disobey Canada's scary-quiet voice, America pried off the top and dug in. "Fanks," he mumbled.

"I'd had a feeling I might need it tonight," Canada griped.

America frowned, then looked around the table. He retrieved the spoon from the gravy, wiped it off, and offered it to Canada silently.

After a long moment, Canada let out a huff of a laugh and accepted the spoon, leaning forward and indulging in some stress eating of his own.


End file.
